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by phoenixzeal



Series: Dreamverse [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post Reichenbach, Spoilers for Series 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixzeal/pseuds/phoenixzeal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ah, there they are: quick footsteps on the stairs. The door opens and Lestrade stands there, staring at Sherlock. His mouth hangs open and it would have been highly amusing if it wasn’t for how tired and worn he looks. It’s still amusing, just not as much.</p><p>(This is the last part of the Dreamverse.)</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> This is also posted at [livejournal](http://crimsontaboo.livejournal.com/56940.html#cutid1).
> 
> I don't have a beta or a Britpicker. Apologies for any mistakes.

It’s very early morning and Sherlock is sitting in his armchair at 221B Baker Street. He’s picked up his old mobile and a new suit at Mycroft’s before going home. John is still asleep and Sherlock will let him sleep for now, he’s got other things to take care of first. He sent a text a while ago and considering the content of the message it should give him an interesting result any minute now. 

Ah, there they are: quick footsteps on the stairs. The door opens and Lestrade stands there, staring at Sherlock. His mouth hangs open and it would have been highly amusing if it wasn’t for how tired and worn he looks. It’s still amusing, just not as much. 

“Hello,” Sherlock says calmly and Lestrade’s mouth snaps shut. “I wasn’t entirely sure if you’d come.”

“I thought… John.” Lestrade is incapable of forming full sentences and he’s still frozen in place. 

He snaps out of it and stalks up to Sherlock, grabbing the lapels of his jacket in a tight grip. Their faces are inches apart, Sherlock’s calm and Lestrade’s absolutely livid. Perhaps John will get his wish soon and Lestrade will punch Sherlock. 

“Three years, Sherlock,” Lestrade says through clenched teeth. “Three bloody years! Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been? How much it’s torn John apart? God, have you told him?”

“Told him what?” Sherlock asks. 

“Don’t play stupid. Have you told him you’re alive?”

“Not yet but I imagine that I will very soon.”

John has woken up; Sherlock can hear him moving in the upstairs bedroom. Lestrade begins to curse at Sherlock but stops when John enters the living room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He stops and looks at Sherlock and Lestrade. They’re still in the same position, Lestrade leaning over Sherlock and gripping his jacket lapels tightly, but both of them turn their heads to look at John. Lestrade is clearly worried but Sherlock remains calm. 

“Good morning, John. Lestrade thinks that I ought to tell you that I’m alive.”

“Right,” John says slowly, drawing out the word. “I’ll just put the kettle on. Do you fancy a cuppa?” 

Lestrade is once again slack jawed in shock but manages to pull himself together long enough to say, “No, thanks.”

John nods and heads into the kitchen. Lestrade turns to look at Sherlock again, frowning in confusion. He lets go of Sherlock’s jacket and sinks down in the opposite armchair, John’s usual spot. Sighing heavily, he drags a hand across his face. 

“Do you think he’s in shock?” he asks after a moment, silently so John won’t hear from where he’s bustling around in the kitchen. 

Sherlock shrugs noncommittally and brushes his hands over his lapels to smooth out the wrinkles. It would be nicer to tell Lestrade the truth but the look on his face is far too delightful now that he doesn’t seem as angry. 

“Why, Sherlock?”

“You will find out in due time but there is one person I want to tell first,” Sherlock says and Lestrade nods. 

“Christ, Sherlock, I really thought you were dead. Everybody did, or they still do in fact. I think even Anderson has started to miss you.”

“It’s easy to miss someone if you’re certain you’ll never have to see them again. He will go back to despising me in no time, I’m sure.”

John has finished making tea and he comes back to the living room with two mugs. He hands one of them to Sherlock before he sits down on the armrest of Sherlock’s armchair, placing his free arm on the backrest. Lestrade looks at him as if he’s a ticking time bomb about to explode at any minute. 

“Thank you, John,” Sherlock says and take a careful sip of the hot tea to hide his smirk. 

Greg had been shocked by receiving a text from Sherlock Holmes; he hadn’t had the heart to delete Sherlock’s number from his phone. He’d been even more shocked at seeing that Sherlock actually is alive, and that it wasn’t John who’d gone around the bend and texted him with Sherlock’s old phone as a prank. Now, however, he thinks that those two shocking events are nothing compared to this. 

John is sitting there, calmly drinking his tea with his arm practically around Sherlock’s shoulders as if nothing is wrong. Perhaps he thinks that it’s all some kind of dream or delusion. It worries Greg. He frowns as he looks at the both of them. 

Something is different. Not only that Sherlock has been gone for three years, supposedly dead. There’s something else. They both look content and completely comfortable with each other even though John is almost on Sherlock’s lap. They’ve always been remarkably at ease around each other of course, otherwise not as many people would mistake them for being a couple. There’s a new level of intimacy: John’s body is angled towards Sherlock, their legs meeting. John’s foot is actually hooked around Sherlock’s calf, Greg discovers as he glances down. 

“Er, John, are you all right?” Greg asks hesitantly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” John says with a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Greg’s confusion deepens and it must show on his face, because Sherlock unsuccessfully tries to hide a snort by raising his mug to his lips. Nothing about the situation is amusing to Greg and he glares at Sherlock. 

“I thought you said you hadn’t told him.”

“I didn’t,” Sherlock says. “I came home early this morning and I didn’t wish to wake John. I thought that I might as well text you while I waited for him to wake up.”

Nothing about Sherlock’s reply explains why John isn’t at all surprised by seeing him there, alive. Greg is beginning to wonder if this is all a dream and he’s actually still in his bed. That would make more sense than this being reality. 

“All right, I can’t do this anymore,” John says. 

The confusion on Greg’s face is a bit amusing but John is starting to feel sorry for him. It is pretty early in the morning and finding out that Sherlock is alive is a big shock. John remembers when he figured it out and the anger and pain that he’d felt. Greg might not have been as close to Sherlock but they’d been friends, more or less, for years before John showed up. 

“Just a little while longer?” Sherlock looks up at John with pleading eyes but they won’t work this time. 

“No, Sherlock. If we go on like this, he’ll definitely punch you and maybe even me.”

“What’s going on?” Greg asks and John turns his attention back to him.

“Honestly I’ve known that Sherlock is alive for over a year now,” John says and Greg’s frown deepens again. “I wasn’t supposed to know, it wasn’t safe, but Sherlock came to see me anyway.”

“You weren’t supposed to wake up,” Sherlock says and John places his hand on the back of Sherlock’s neck, kneading a bit. 

“I know.”

“”Wait, so you’ve known for over a year? But you’ve still been so gloomy,” Greg says. 

John ducks his head. “Er, well, I was worried that something would happen to him.”

“I’m back now and everything is fine,” Sherlock says with a brief smile. 

“You’re an arse, Sherlock Holmes,” Greg says but there’s not much heat behind his words. 

He can’t muster up enough energy to stay angry when he sees how happy John and Sherlock are. They’re practically glowing, in their own strange way. If people thought that they were dating before, now they’ll probably assume that they’re engaged or in a civil partnership. 

“Look, I’m tired and I have to go to work in a bit. I’ll get out of your way so you can,” Greg pauses, “catch up. You’ll contact me later and fill me in on what really happened three years ago, all right?”

“Yes, unless John writes in his blog about it and you can find out the details that way,” Sherlock says. 

_“Sherlock.”_

“Fine, I’ll contact you. Probably not today, I’ve been flitting from place to place for years and would appreciate if I could settle down first.”

“Of course.” Greg stands and makes his way towards the door. “See you later.”

John gives him a smile and a nod but Sherlock is already completely focused on the man at his side. Greg shakes his head a little and closes the door behind him.

“Lestrade thinks that we’re a couple,” Sherlock says once they’re alone. 

“That’s because we are,” John says and takes the mug from Sherlock’s hands, placing it on the small table together with his own. 

“It doesn’t bother you if people know about us? They will assume that we’re having sex.”

“They’ve been thinking that ever since we met so what difference does it make?”

“None at all.”

Sherlock smiles and tugs on John’s t-shirt, making him slide into Sherlock’s lap with an undignified yelp. He struggles to get away but Sherlock takes a firm hold of his hips, keeping him in place. It makes John feel a bit embarrassed and there’s a faint blush on his cheeks. The sight makes Sherlock feel proud for reasons he can’t fully fathom but it doesn’t matter. He’s happy to be at home with John at last. 

“Sherlock, you promised to tell me everything,” John says and stops struggling to settle into a more comfortable position on Sherlock’s lap. 

“Can it wait?” Sherlock asks and slips his hands underneath John’s sleep rumpled t-shirt. “I’ve been away for a very long time and even I must rest at times.”

“Yes, of course.” John looks down as he feels Sherlock caress his sides. “What are you doing?”

“I like feeling your skin under my fingertips, it makes me feel safe. Problem?”

“No, it just seemed a bit,” John pauses, “sexual for being you. I suppose not then.”

“We have participated in what could be described as kissing marathons half naked in your bed and this is what seems sexual to you?”

“If you put it that way it does sound pretty silly,” John says. “How long has it been since you slept?”

“A couple of days perhaps,” Sherlock says. 

“Do you want to go to bed?”

“Will you come with me?”

John nods and Sherlock lets go of him long enough for both of them to rise from the armchair, then he takes John’s hand as they walk to the upstairs bedroom. Sherlock has never been much for caring about things like personal space, but he wasn’t exactly cuddly before the fall. John thinks that it will probably only last for a few weeks as Sherlock adjusts to being home again. 

It doesn’t bother him because he already knows what living together with Sherlock is like. Maddening, dangerous and absolutely brilliant. Anything extra added to what they had before is just a bonus. Once Sherlock goes back to solving cases, because he definitely will, John will be scared out of his mind, thinking that Sherlock might slip away again. He’ll deal, though, and everything will be worth it. 

John helps Sherlock out of his suit and they lie down on the bed together, limbs entangled. Sherlock buries his face against John’s chest and breathes deeply. John begins to massage Sherlock’s scalp, enjoying the small moans that escapes Sherlock’s mouth as he relaxes. 

“This will be the first time we fall asleep together,” John says. 

“There’s no need for dreams any longer, I will be here when you wake up,” Sherlock says.

**Author's Note:**

> I debated with myself whether to keep to Lestrade or Greg consistently in this but Greg didn't feel right from Sherlock's POV and Lestrade didn't feel right from Lestrade's and John's POVs. I hope that the change doesn't bother anyone too much. 
> 
> This is indeed the last part of the Dreamverse. I've had such a good time writing it and I wish I could continue forever. I'm too scared of actual plot to continue, though, and I can't continue writing fluff for all eternity. I do have other things to do.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who's left me kudos and/or comments! It means a lot to me. I really didn't think I'd get any attention at all in this fandom so it has warmed my heart. :)


End file.
